It Takes Two to Make Love
by atalanta's apples
Summary: Ch.5, fixed mess up-When asked by the boy that she likes, Hermione claims her best shag ever was Draco Malfoy. Unfortunately, she and Draco realize that the only one way to fix a lie...is to make it a reality.
1. Chapter One

_Disclaimer_: J.K. owns.

**xx It Takes Two to Make Love xx**

**xx Chapter One xx**

_Stupid, so stupid!_ Hermione screamed to herself as she walked down the hallway. What was she thinking? _Was_ she thinking? Hands pressed to hot, red cheeks. Students in a flurry of dove gray and black passed her by, not seeming to notice that she was in the middle of _losing her mind_. Where was she going again? Was it time for class? She checked her watch but her mind was blank. Oh my. She _was_ losing her mind. Hermione couldn't help but let a small whimper escape as she pushed into the closest girls' bathroom.

Part of her mind, the sensible, smart part of her mind, the part that _usually_ dominated her life, was telling her to stop being so damn silly. She was turning everything into a teenage drama, the very thing she always looked down upon. Wasn't she?

Hermione splashed some water on her face and looked at her wide-eyed expression in the mirror. _No she wasn't, thankyouverymuch. _

"I can't believe..." she started weakly, and pressed a hand to her forehead. Did she have a fever? Did fevers make people suddenly start to blather and look like idiots? No, well, people normally _didn't_ blather on like idiots; that only happened in daytime soaps. Maybe this was a magical infliction. Yes! That's it! No wonder she was acting crazy, someone must have put a hex on her. And she can walk right out those doors and find Christian and tell him that she's been hexed and he really shouldn't believe anything she says, for both their sakes, really.

But who would hex her? Hermione thought carefully. _Let's see...I'm a nice person, relatively. I'm a studious, sensible, rather boring person that no one would ever bother to put a hex on...except... except that Malfoy! It had to be him! _But even in her mind, the name rang in her head and what happened just fifteen minutes earlier came back to her in a rush and Hermione nearly groaned.

Okay, fine. The worst had happened. She had turned into one of those giggling girls who blushed furiously and bit their lips and became painfully tongue-tied when in presence of a boy they liked. Except she didn't giggle. Or blush. Or bite her lips. Or was ever tongue-tied in her life. She was always quite the opposite, in fact. And _that_ was _precisely_ her problem. Was this karma? Was this karma's way of kicking her in the ass for scoffing at girls who spoke too softly and giggled too much and acted like docile cows the way they chewed their food and blinked their eyes?

Oh yes, yes it was. But what on earth had _possessed_ her to say what she had? As infatuated as she really was with Christian, he was still just a _boy_ and a boy was an elective that fell somewhere after schoolwork, family, friends, and personal enlightenment (which she worked daily at) and perhaps a little before practicing a little tennis which she loved to do during the summer or editing _Hogwarts: A History_ _Edition 32.6. _Well, it seemed like a boy fell higher up on her list of priorities than she thought, perhaps before her life because she had just quite clearly _ruined_ hers all because of a boy.

Did it really just take one question to unravel her so completely? Hermione replayed the scene in her head, only pausing a little to appreciate Christian's dark brown hair and his nose. So what if his nose was a little big, a little crooked? It looked quite nice; it saved his face from a boring perfection, unlike that git Malfoy. Oh my. Don't think of Malfoy.

Christian. Yes. Now where was she? Oh right; there was Christian. She was looking up at him. That's important; he must be awfully tall. Was he taller than Harry? He seemed to be taller than Harry, maybe almost as tall as Ron though so much better proportioned. He was wearing the Hogwarts uniform but those gray pants never looked so good on any other Hogwarts boys. And the way that white shirt fit so perfectly and his robes hanging open as though he couldn't care, the tie in Ravenclaw colors hanging a bit loosely around his neck. He had those little square glasses that made him look so damn intelligent. And he _was_. That was the important part. That's why she liked him.

But if he was so intelligent, how had they come onto such a crude, uncouth subject? Yet she welcomed it; Hermione found it heady and she had felt reckless and invincible. That was precisely the moment when Christian decided to shoot that question at her: "Who was your all time best shag? That is," he had added with a crooked grin. "If you've even done it before."

So that was when Hermione decided to single-handedly ruin her life. "Draco Malfoy of course," she had said, boldly, brazenly. But _why_! Hermione thought despairingly. Why on earth had she chosen him? Draco Malfoy of all the people, the slimy, disgusting bastard that proceeded to barrage her life with insults? For the past seven years all he had done was smirk, sneer, and say rude things while she had pointedly ignored him until once she had finally lost it and had physically punched him. Then she went back to ignoring.

She didn't think he was good looking. Honestly, she didn't. But Ginny did, and so, apparently, did the rest of the predictable female population. Was that why? Did she want to impress Christian? _Impress him? _The sensible part screamed. _And you couldn't do that the old-fashioned way? _

Oh yes. The old-fashioned way would probably indicate the truth. She hadn't. Told the truth, that is. And for that, she was in trouble. Would Christian tell? Would this go back to Malfoy? Oh please, _please_ don't let this go back to Malfoy.

Hermione sat down on the cold, tiled floors of the bathroom. _Okay, calm down Granger,_ she thought. _You can fix this. You can figure this out. Time. Yes, that's it. Find out how much time you have to fix this. Okay let's see, it takes approximately fifteen seconds to tell a rumor to someone else. So six degrees of separation, right? Uh okay, let's see, let's give a fifteen minute break in between each person, I mean, they wouldn't be standing in a line, passing this on, right? Okay, so approximately fifteen minutes which would be fifteen times sixty times six plus fifteen times six...which would be..._

Hermione scrambled to get parchment and quills from her bag, cursing the fact that Hogwarts still didn't use ballpoint pens. Screw the novelty of using these things; they were, fundamentally, a pain. Her hands were shaking so hard that it took a couple times to unscrew the small vial of ink. Finally she wrote it all out.

_Okay, that would be five thousand four hundred ninety seconds which would be ninety-one minutes and thirty seconds, which would be approximately...one hour and thirty-one minutes and thirty seconds. Wait, WHAT! _

Hermione stared at the parchment. Did she do the sums right? Would Malfoy really find out what she said in just over one and a half hours? Oh no, this can't be right! She checked and rechecked her answers. She vaguely realized it was time for class but dismissed it _just this once_ figuring since she was doing sums anyway it couldn't be that bad. Yes, yes she did do this right. 

Then not only will Draco Malfoy know what she had done in one hour, thirty-one minutes, and thirty seconds, her life as she knows it, will also be over.

ooooooooooooooooooooo

"Oh my God." Hermione recognized that voice. She sat straight up.

"What are you doing? That floor is probably filthy," Ginny cried. She knelt at Hermione's side.

"Ron and Harry said you weren't at class so they commissioned _me_ to check all the girls' bathrooms."

"Is she in there?" Hermione could hear Ron call.

"Yes," Hermione snapped.

"But why?" Ginny asked. She studied Hermione's face; it held outright tragedy.

"Because I have done something horrifically wrong," she said, plaintively.

"But...but you never do _anything_ wrong, Hermione," Ginny said.

"Well maybe it's because of you, you promiscuous red-head!" Hermione shouted. Ginny didn't look offended, or even worried; she looked amused.

"Right well, okay. Now will you tell me what happened?"

"It's..."

"A long and sordid tale?" Ginny supplied.

"Yes." Ginny seemed to consider this carefully.

"Strawberry ice cream and vanilla crackers," Ginny diagnosed. Hermione looked up, happily surprised. Well, perhaps her life wasn't over quite yet.

ooooooooooooooooooooo

Ginny made Hermione put on her baby-blue silk chemise with the cream ribbon trim. She herself, not to be left out, wore her favorite pink and yellow baby-doll dress and they sat among soft, folds of crimson and gold blankets. They shared between them a gigantic carton of strawberry ice cream and a box of vanilla wafers.

"Feeling better?" the redhead asked. Hermione nodded, somewhat sulkily.

"Then tell me what happened. To be one hundred percent honest-"

"Do you have to be?" Hermione asked. Ginny gave her a pointed look. Hermione sighed. If there was anything her friend detested, it was shying away from the truth; Ginny was brutally honest and forthright, especially to herself.

"To be honest," she continued. "You're above your hormones. You always have been. So then _something_ happened that made you mope in a bathroom all day. Now what was it?"

"I'm not," Hermione said. "Above my hormones I mean." She broke a vanilla wafer in half and thoughtfully ate one half.

"Ginny, I made a mistake, a really bad one," she said. Ginny patiently waited her out.

"Christian asked me who my best shag was," Hermione started.

"Christian? _The_ Christian Hath that you've so obviously been mooning over for the past month?"

"Hey I thought you said I was above my hormones." Ginny rolled her eyes.

"Well, duh, yes Hermione, you don't giggle and twiddle with your hair around them. But if you didn't like _any _one completely, then that's just abnormal." Hermione looked at her dubiously but let Ginny continue.

"Obviously he's not too bad if he knows what sort of questions to ask," Ginny said. Her lips slowly curved into a grin that didn't help Hermione's situation at all.

"So what did you say anyway?" she asked. Hermione blanched.

"Draco Malfoy." Ginny's eyes opened wide and the silver spoon fell from her long fingers.

"What?"

"I _said_ Draco Malfoy. Which may as well be your fault too because all you ever talk about is how hot he is and how sexy he looks and...and..."

"And I'm absolutely right?"

"No, _I'm_ absolutely screwed!" In her vehemence, Hermione realized she had crushed the other half of the vanilla wafer in her hand.

"Why couldn't I have just said someone else, _anyone else_?"

"Because of your inner psychological desire to sleep with Draco Malfoy," Ginny said wickedly. She had her Sigmund Freud face on and Hermione wasn't comforted by this.

"Just because you're promiscuous doesn't mean I'm like that too," she grumbled.

"No," Ginny said. "That's precisely the problem. That's why your desire is _repressed_ and look at the consequences of that. You have to sleep with Draco Malfoy before _Christian_ finds out that you're a liar, albeit one with _excellent_ taste, and word reaches Malfoy because who knows _what_ would happen then." Hermione, as much as she hated to admit that the other girl was right, her explanation did make some sense.

"Hmm, although I wouldn't mind the consequences of this little lie," Ginny said, licking the strawberry ice cream from the spoon.

"You wouldn't, but I do!"

"But _you_ have no choice." Ginny looked triumphant as Hermione groaned and buried her face into a pillow.

ooooooooooooooooooooo

_One hour, thirty-one minutes, and thirty seconds after Hermione's fatal mistake_

"Draco, Draco!" Pansy cried. She was running at him from a distance and finally collided into the taller boy.

"What?" he asked amused, as Pansy's antics usually did.

"You wouldn't believe what I just heard," she said. She brushed a stray strand of hair out of her face. She looked so excited, like she could just burst from the news she was just going to tell him. Draco heard what people, especially Gryffindors, said about Pansy. They said she looked like a pug with a permanently sour expression.

Draco didn't mind her at all, truthfully. Sure she was a little shallow, but she was always decent to him and he thought she looked kind of cute, like a little sister that he never really had.

"What is it?" he asked, playing along for her benefit. It would be some inane rumor about him, most likely. He couldn't believe half of the shit people made up about him; it was crazy. He ran a hand through his flaxen hair and gave his attention fully to Pansy. He felt a little sorry for her; her parents were far more neglectful than was healthy and because he was grown up with the constant nurturing of his mother, he could hardly begin to imagine what that would be like.

"Hermione Granger claimed you guys slept together!" The languid, amused, half-smile that had been playing across his face froze.

"What?"

"She said you guys slept together. Is that true?" She was tugging slightly on his sleeve like a little kid.

"No, of course not," he scoffed. _But then why would she have said so_? Draco thought. Well, there's an answer we'd all like to know.

"Pansy, I honestly doubt that's true," he said, kindly. "Hermione Granger is the muggle-born, studious, and frankly _quite boring_ girl in Gryffindor. And as little interest I have in her, I can assure you that she has ten times _less_ interest in me. She despises me."

"But then why would someone say she said that?" she asked, cocking her head, looking up at him. Draco smiled slightly.

"I don't know, Pansy. People make up a lot of random shit." Pansy nodded, satisfied, but Draco himself wasn't. This was a much too absurd of a rumor to just be made-up. He shrugged slightly to himself. He'd just have to wait. Whether Hermione said this or not, she would eventually come to him for one reason or another, either to put a stop to the rumor, or to...validate it?

Draco smiled; that was too absurd. But he was a little less lethargic after that, a little more animated. Whatever it was, he would wait and she would come. They always do.

ooooooooooooooooooooo


	2. Chapter Two

_Disclaimer_: I don't own, except Christian who will play a pretty minimal role in this story.

**xx It Takes Two to Make Love xx**

**xx Chapter Two xx**

Hermione paced back and forth, or would have been that is, if she could stay standing up. Her legs were shaking and Hermione swore she was asphyxiating at that very moment. Thank God for private rooms. Yes, she was indeed made Head Girl. It was no surprise to _anyone_ that she became Head Girl; it would have been a crime if she hadn't been.

Professor McGonagall looked as though she was about to levitate with pride and excitement when Dumbledore presented her with the Head Girl badge in front of the faculty. She looked _especially_ pleased (Hermione half expected her to start purring like her Animagi counterpart would have done) because of the sour look on Professor Snape's face. Head Boy hadn't gone to a Slytherin like he had hoped to (and quite frankly, how everyone had expected to) but in fact to a Hufflepuff boy with a sweet demeanor. He had a cherubic face, good grades, and was adored by the majority of the faculty. Sans Snape of course but he's just contrary like that.

Hermione was lying on the bed, clutching a velvet pillow to her chest. She felt full possibly from the tempest of emotions that were raging in her chest, but more likely because of the enormous dinner she had just had, hoping to drown her sorrows in food. Unfortunately, that hadn't worked and while the skewered chicken and garlic-lemon tarts and the sweet corn tamales tasted good at the time, now, lying miserably in her room, she just felt sick.

She knew how pathetic her situation was. She was quite aware of the fact that she was being fully...well, out of character. She'll just have to put an end to this. The longer she stays in this room wallowing in self-pity, the worse.

Well, she just had to go out there and face it, her apocalypse. And if everything went to hell after that, well, then let it! She was a strong girl; she could become a hermit and study. There's only eight months left of school anyway and after that she would never have to see anyone in this god-forsaken school ever again. Except possibly Harry and Ron and Ginny, the first two extremely bemused about what's gotten into their usually sensible, levelheaded friend. But they wouldn't abandon her just because of her moment of insanity...hopefully.

Okay so there, she had decided she would do what she has to do. She will go right up there, right up to Draco Malfoy, the devil himself, and...and... oh. Hermione hadn't quite decided yet _what_ she would do when she approached Malfoy. She would talk to him of course. Hermione briefly, and sadistically, considered hexing him and she chuckled to herself, imagining him breaking out into green boils. Wait, that wouldn't do any good. And if anyone deserved to be hexed, it's her.

Hermione shook her head to clear the image of a hexed Malfoy. She forlornly told it goodbye and concentrated on what she _really_ could do. Well okay let's see...

She stood up and stood up the pillow on the bedside table, imagining it was Malfoy. No, that wouldn't do, he had to be taller. She stacked her schoolbooks on the table (well of course she had done her homework before wallowing in misery, she hadn't _completely_ lost her mind) and set the pillow on top of it. It was a bland color of cream and white, much like Malfoy's coloring.

Hermione retrieved a quill and some ink from her book bag. She added two eyes, a pig-like snout, and a leering smirk on the square pillow. Okay, perfect. It was easy to imagine that was Malfoy standing before her now. So now...she can practice.

"Hello Malfoy," she said. Er- what could she possibly say?

"You might have heard a strange rumor floating around about me claiming that we..." Oh _my_, she couldn't do this! She couldn't say it. If it was this embarrassing with a _pillow _that she scrawled on a face, then imagine how bad it would be with a real person. Hermione could feel her cheeks turning red but felt a flare of determination. No, she got herself into this and she'd have to finish it.

"You might have heard a rumor and it's true!" Er, no, that wouldn't do. Now she just sounded fanatical.

"Hi Malfoy, I know we haven't really been the best of friends..." Well _there_ was an understatement. She just had to say it, get it out there.

"Malfoy, I said I've slept with you because of a boy I liked and now I have to make that true before he finds out that I'm a liar." _Malfoy, I said I slept with you because I'm psychotic's more like it_, Hermione grumbled to herself. In a fit of frustration, she punched the pillow and it fell off the stack of books, off the bedside table, and onto the ground. Hermione satisfied herself in giving it a kick.

"Uh, Hermione?" Hermione's head snapped up at the sound of the tremulous voice. It was Blair at the door, looking severely confused and, to be completely truthful, more than a bit frightened. He looked as though he firmly regretted sticking his head of buttery, yellow curls through her door. His gaze was on the mangled pillow. It was still smirking in a grotesque sort of way. Hermione kicked it back out of view.

"The door was open and I just wanted to tell you that, um, the faculty meeting is canceled this month?" He was an up-talker. Hermione detested up-talkers but she had to make an exception for the boy at the door. She found it hard to believe that he was in the same year as her, nevertheless the same _age_.

"It's canceled?" He nodded and looked desperately back outside at the common room that connected their bedrooms together. It was a nice room made public to the rest of Hogwarts after, rumor has it, that one too many impromptu parties had broken out there. However, few people really visited the room. It still had the air of being off-limits despite the fact that anyone could waltz through that double doorway.

"So, just to tell you," he said, and whisked himself out. Hermione sighed and sat on the bed. She scared the Head Boy again. He was timid and shy and well liked but there wasn't any connection made between her and him. Hermione found it absolutely frustrating to talk to Blair since he was soft-spoken and had little to say. She needed someone who would talk back to her and hold up a good fight. He was neither of those things so they remained acquaintances at most. Hermione was sure he was sorely wishing that he hadn't been made Head Boy now.

She gave a sidelong glance to the pillow, severely rumpled, lying on the ground. Hermione scowled at it.

"I'll get to you later," she said and checked her watch. It was only ten; perhaps the dining hall would still be open. Despite her many attempts to bring up vending machines at the Hogwarts faculty meetings (she and Blair were only invited the one at the beginning of each month) she never really got around to it. As convenient as they were in the Muggle world, Hermione could hardly imagine it in a Hogwarts setting.

She slipped her feet into shoes, wondering if the elves had left any food out for the late stragglers. She hoped so.

Hermione padded around the corner to the Gryffindor common room and just as she approached it, the portrait swung open and Harry almost seemed to fly out.

"Going somewhere?" she asked, wryly. Harry jumped at the sound and turned to face her.

"What? No. Well maybe. Yes. Parvati's after me." Hermione frowned.

"After you? Why? I thought she hates you," she said.

"Uh, I think so too but I don't know," he said, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets. Hermione had met him over the summer and taken him shopping to get clothes that actually _fit_ and weren't falling off his thin frame.

Drat Dudley and his weight problem. Or you could just think he was horizontally gifted. That is if you were blind and generous. It honestly couldn't be _healthy_ for that boy to be that size.

The worst part was, Harry protested every step of the way and said he was quite happy in Dudley's oversized clothes. _Boys_, Hermione thought, her mind clucking its tongue at Harry's stubbornness.

"And because of the Winter Ball," Harry was saying.

"Oh, sorry what?" She had been too lost in thoughts of Harry seemingly drowning in folds of Dudley's clothes that she had forgotten to listen to Harry. Harry looked mildly uncomfortable and said, "No, forget it." He was too nice to tease Hermione about her spaciness and short-attention span. Ron, however, wasn't. Speaking of which...

"Where's Ron?" Hermione asked. Harry blanched, if it was even possible.

"Uh, out. With Padma. That's why Parvati was after me. She wanted us to join them."

"Wow, sounds serious," she teased.

"It's not, really!" he said, vehemently. Hermione chuckled to herself; she really had to leave Harry alone one of these days.

"Then care to join me? I'm going to the Dining Hall to see if there's anything to eat." Harry's grateful expression was all the answer she needed.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooo

It didn't take very long at all for the news of Hermione's outburst to travel so quickly. This was unfortunate for Draco since if _one_ more person came up to him to ask him if it was true that he _had_ slept with the Gryffindor bookworm he was going to hex their head off.

"Everyone's talking about it. Do you know _how_ aggravating it is?" Draco demanded to Crabbe and Goyle. As conversationalists, they weren't much. But to rant to, they were ideal. They both shook their heads hurriedly.

"You would think people would have a _little_ more sense don't you think so?" Draco continued. "If anyone had _half_ a brain, it would be clear, crystal clear, that this is just a lie made up by a sad little person who has no life!" He looked at his friends and right on cue, they started nodding again.

"You would think that they have better things to do with their time than to gossip about me, don't you think so?" More fervent nods. "Don't they have their own pathetic lives to talk about?" Draco swore he felt a breeze from the enthusiastic nods from his two companions.

"You can stop that now," he said, dryly. Crabbe and Goyle had gone on nodding longer than it was really necessary. Draco sighed.

"It amazes me. Absolutely stuns me _how stupid_ people are in this damn school. I can't wait until this year is over and I can finally do what I want," he said. He fell back onto the green and silver striped chair and put his feet up on the ottoman. To be quite truthful, he was a little worried about the future. He had no idea what he was going to do. His father for sure wanted him to work at the Ministry but he'd rather count chicken eggs than work at the Ministry.

But that was still a good eight months away and he planned on cruising through these eight months. Honestly, what more work was there to be done? All he had to do was smile properly to the professors and do some work and he'd graduate from this school with honors. Draco sighed contently at the though.

So what if there was another rumor floating around about him? He could just ignore anyone that tried to ask him about it. And it'll eventually die down, probably pretty soon. He'd just wait it out, nothing to get worked up over. Now that he was calm and peaceful, Draco remembered something.

"So anyway, didn't one of you guys say you had something to ask me?" he asked. Crabbe and Goyle nudged one another and finally Goyle cleared his throat.

"Uh, so is it true that you slept with Hermione Granger?"

ooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"They're staring at me," Hermione whispered to Harry. Harry, bemused, looked around.

"Who?"

"_Them_." Following Hermione's eyes, Harry saw a small group of Ravenclaws chatting at a table a little ways off. So maybe they _did_ avert their eyes a little quickly when he looked over, but he would have been more inclined to believe Hermione if shehadn't said this about _every single person_ that chanced to look in their general direction.

"You really have to be less paranoid," Harry said, amused. "None of these people are staring at you and they _aren't_ talking about you."

"On the contrary, Harry. They are, I can tell," Hermione said, tugging at her left ear. She left her slice of cherry pie uneaten in front of her and Harry eyed it wistfully. With an exasperated grunt, she shoved the plate towards him.

"Thanks." Through a mouthful of grenadine and bread, Harry said, "So why do you think they're all talking about you anyway? Even if they are, you never cared before."

"I didn't care because I knew that what they were saying about me was bogus! That it wasn't my fault so I might as well not care because I can't stop people from talking about me!" she hissed. The last thing she needed was for people to overhear her heatedly confirming that she did indeed claim she had slept with Draco Malfoy. Hermione glared at a group of Hufflepuff fourth-years walking and it wasn't Harry's imagination that they squeaked, frightened, and hurried away.

As he watched them trip over one another as they hurried away, amused, Hermione's words sank in.

"Wait what? You mean you did whatever they're talking about? What are they talking about anyway?"

"You don't know? I would think that even _Dumbledore_ knew by now," she grumbled. Harry shook his head.

"Well I don't know. What is it?"

"I don't want to say," she answered sulkily. Hermione reached across the table and took the pie back and stabbed it with her fork, cherry syrup oozing out of the fork holes. Harry winced.

"Come on, Hermione, I'm not going to laugh or anything."

"But you might question my sanity."

"Aw come on, you're being really weird." Hermione slammed her fork down at the table, causing the table of Ravenclaws to jump.

"I know I am! I swear to God, Harry, someone's hexed me! I'm ruined!" Hermione covered her face with her hands. What was the matter with her? When did she turn into a soap opera queen anyway? She had to stop this immediately.

"Uh Hermione?" Hermione uncovered her face and smiled brightly, which seemed to scare Harry more than reassure him.

"You know when you're put on the spot?" she asked, trying to turn back into the sensible Hermione. "And you end up saying really stupid things? Well I said a really stupid thing and now I'm screwed because of it." Harry just watched her, waiting out what she was really going to say.

"Christian asked me who was my all time best shag. And I said Draco Malfoy, Harry. And that is why everyone in this dratted _school_ is looking at me like I've suddenly become a porn star!" Harry looked startled.

"Draco Malfoy, eh?" Harry said. Hermione's eyebrows raised.

"Well you don't seem too surprised." Harry shrugged.

"I always knew you were going to crack one of these days," he said, with a lopsided grin.

"Thank you," she said, dryly. "Honestly, though, it's scaring me how I'm _not_ scaring anyone else but myself."

"Do you _want_ us to be yelling at you? Telling you that you're a horrible person and you ought to be hexed for one minor slip of the tongue?" Hermione shrugged a bit forlornly.

"Okay, fine, maybe not minor," he amended. "But you should know better, Hermione, that we're not going to hate you just for making a mistake." He had a point. Since when was Harry the level-headed one? And since when had Hermione turned into such a masochist? She internally wailed.

"Well what're you going to do about that? You're in a pickle, Hermione."

"I don't know." She finally took a bite of the pie since Harry no longer seemed interested in it. "Talk to him? Ginny was no help. She told me to go and _sleep_ with him so it wouldn't be a lie anymore." Harry chuckled.

"And you didn't take that so well."

"I'm not the one mooning over him."

"Well have you got a better plan then?" Hermione sighed and mashed the pie into a messy pulp.

"No, which is precisely why I am screwed." Hermione didn't want to mention that that was why she was also considering taking Ginny's advice... Hermione smiled to herself. No, just because she was being a little out of character lately didn't mean she would lose her head completely. Ginny was wild; Ginny was different from her. She couldn't very well take the redhead's advice, though they were given with the best of intentions. She would just give herself time to mull this over; her brain never let her down before.

"Oh, and Hermione?" She looked up.

"What?"

"Maybe it's best we didn't tell this to Ron just yet," he said, hesitantly. "At least not until he's in a good mood." Hermione nodded sagely.

"Until he's in a _very_ good mood indeed."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooo


	3. Chapter Three

_Disclaimer_: I don't own except Christian and Blair, both of which will play a minimal roles in this story.

**oo It Takes Two to Make Love oo**

**oo Chapter Three oo**

Hermione was wringing her wrists nervously, preparing herself for _it._ And by "it" of course she meant this impending talk with Malfoy. Okay here it goes. It's nothing, nothing at all. Since when did Hermione ever start caring about where she stood among her peers and what they thought of her? Right, so it's okay if everything goes straight to hell in a hand basket and she's left looking like a compulsive liar. She could just hear it now, how people would murmur to each other as she passed by about how she was a sexual predator and a pathological liar.

Hermione fiercely shook her head to clear it of the image. No, none of that was going to happen; she was just overreacting simply because she was nervous. How did she know she was nervous? Well easy: her heart rate was above normal, her palms were producing sweat a little profusely, and she couldn't stop shaking her foot in that annoying way that most girls do. Realizing what she was doing, Hermione abruptly stopped, firmly putting both feet on the ground.

"Er Hermione, something wrong?" Ron asked. He was sitting across from her and both he and Harry, who was seated next to Ron, were staring at the table that had been shaking just moments before thanks to Hermione's epileptic movements. Dinner wasn't quite so enjoyable when it was being disturbed by a nervous friend.

"Oh, I feel fine, never been better!" she said, maybe a little too enthusiastically and smiling a little too widely. Ron nodded and Hermione wasn't quite sure if he was convinced or not. It was hard to tell when it came to Ron.

"Oh well okay, just wondering because you were shaking your leg you know? And it's been kind of...disrupting the table, you know?" Hermione glanced at Ron and Harry's plates of food that had been upset by her shaking.

"Er, right, sorry," she said. Eyeing her a little warily, Harry reached for his goblet of pumpkin juice.

"Well I'm going to head on up now," Harry said. Hermione inwardly nodded. There we go, now it's starting and she couldn't go back. Harry would lure Ron away from the Dining Hall and she would go approach Malfoy and hopefully she would somehow fix this mess that she's gotten into.

Harry had asked her _why_ she was even going through all this trouble.

"Honestly, so what if you're found out a liar, Hermione? I mean, it's just Christian, it doesn't really matter," he had said.

"It does matter, Harry!" she cried. "I have to make things right. I've never _ever _lied for such frivolous reasons!" Harry shrugged slightly.

"I think you're being too righteous; you're blowing this out of proportion. Everything will blow over in a couple of days, just you see."

"But _Christian_ won't forget and, more importantly, _I_ won't forget. I have to leave this school with a clear conscience." Harry still thought Hermione was being a little bit ridiculous but it was Hermione's headstrong, honorable to the point of foolishness personality that put her in the mess and _kept_ her in this mess.

This was why she was sitting here, in the Dining Hall, as Harry, somewhat reluctantly, followed her plan by luring Ron away. Ginny, also knowing what would come, left as well, leaving Hermione sitting at the vast, rosewood table by herself. She closed her eyes and counted to ten. When she opened them, Draco was still sitting across the room but wait! What was he doing?

He was gathering his things and getting ready to leave. He slung his book bag over his shoulder and was heading out the door. Now _this_ wasn't part of the plan. Hermione had to get up hurriedly, in the process knocking over her chair and Neville who looked a little flustered to begin with, and hurried across the large room and left through the same doors she saw Draco leaving through.

Hermione tried to keep her huffing to a minimum (but it really is hard, especially with a book bag that's filled to the brim with hardcover textbooks) as she chased that flaxen-haired devil down a long corridor.

"Malfoy! Wait just a minute, Malfoy!" Either he hadn't heard her or was pretending to have not heard her.

"Drat it Malfoy! Will you just wait a minute?" Finally, slowly and deliberately, Draco turned and faced her with such a cool demeanor that for a second, Hermione felt a little foolish.

"Right, and pray tell _why_ am I waiting for a minute?" Hermione scowled. She half expected him to pull out a watch and exactly time her for sixty seconds.

"I need to talk, I mean, we need to talk," she said. Hermione dreaded what would come but it's best to get it over with.

"What about?" Draco asked, his lips curving into a sadistic smile.

"You bloody know well what!" Okay, she let her temper escape her just then but she wouldn't again. At least she'll try not to.

"Does it have anything to do with this little... _rumor _I heard buzzing around the mouths and ears of Hogwarts students for the past few days?"

"Oh stop trying to be so glib Malfoy," Hermione said, irritably. She wasn't about to let him think he had the upper hand, talking as ridiculously as he was right now. Then again, she could only expect to think that _he _thought he had the upper hand since he wasn't the one panting and red-faced and absolutely _mad_ by the way of making up crazy lies.

"I had a slight slip of the tongue-"

"Oh what you said _hardly_ constitutes as slight," Draco interrupted. Hermione ignored him.

"And I was wondering..." Her voice trailed off. What _was_ she going to ask him to do?

"What, Hermione? Do you want me to tell everyone that I made up the rumor? Do you want me to go and tell your beloved Christian that oh, it was _my_ fault that you randomly spurt out lies? Or do you just want me to make this rumor a reality so you won't have to deal with being branded a pathological liar?"

"Thank you, Malfoy, for the array of choices you presented," Hermione said dryly. "But none of those is really what I had in mind." Draco shrugged.

"Then I can't help you. What do you expect me to do, turn back the time so that you don't act so stupidly every time you're around that Ravenclaw?" Hermione frowned.

"How do you know about Christian anyway?"

"_Everyone_ knows about Christian," Draco said, airily. Hermione reminded herself to unclench her fists; it wouldn't do anyone good (well except herself) if she punched him right now.

"And now everyone knows that you _lied_ to impress him," he added. Hermione pressed her lips together.

"You're right, you really can't help me. I'm sorry for taking up so much of your precious time, Malfoy." The name sounded bitter in her mouth.

"My offer still stands," he called after her. Hermione was furious, absolutely livid. How did she even _begin _to think that talking to Malfoy would have fixed anything? She would never, _ever_ talk to him again.

Famous last words.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Malfoy, if I'm ever going to clear my conscience of this lie that was made for trivial reasons...I'm going to need your help," Hermione said. It was only the next day during dinner when she tracked down Draco again and was, quite pathetically, asking for his help. The Dining Hall was relatively empty, seeing as how it was nine in the evening. Hermione noted faintly that they at least had _one_ thing in common: their tendency to eat meals late.

"What do you want me to do, Granger? I'm only human," Draco drawled. He let his eyes slide back to the Hogwarts Student newsletter. She grabbed the glossy newsletter and slapped it against the table, angrily. The group of Hufflepuffs on the cover photograph squeaked in outrage.

"It's rude not to look at people when they're addressing you," she said.

"Only when what they're saying is of any importance," Draco answered. _What an ego he had! _

"It's important, and I believe it's important to you as well. How much longer can you stand people coming up to you asking for you to validate what I said?"

"Which I wouldn't _have_ to be doing if you hadn't said it in the first place," Draco said.

"What's done is done and now we're both stuck in this together." Draco exhaled, exasperated, and pushed his hair away from his face. She did have a point. He didn't know how much longer he could stand all these people coming up to him and asking him about Hermione. It was enough to drive a sane person up a wall. And there he was thinking so naively that this would all blow over in a week, maximum. He was so wrong.

"Thanks to you," he reminded.

"I _know_," Hermione snapped impatiently. "But it doesn't matter if it's my fault or not. What matters is how we're going to get ourselves out of this."

"What do you propose?" Draco asked. He set his elbows on the table and leaned forward.

"I...I don't know yet," she admitted.

"Am I hearing this right? That Ms. Know-it-all _finally_ doesn't have an answer?" Draco asked. _Calling names as though he had no faults in his own character! _

"Your ego could use a bit of work," she informed him. At this, Draco laughed for the first time.

"Perhaps," he said. "But if I were you, I'd be a little more worried about that wayward mouth."

"One slip in seventeen years, an insufferable ego _for_ seventeen years, I think there's a vast difference between the two," Hermione said.

"Ah, but see where this slip has taken both of us." Hermione pressed her lips and settled into her chair.

"So you're going to help me?" she asked. "You did say "both of us" just then."

"Do I really have a choice?" Hermione felt her lips tug at one side into a grin that she wasn't expecting.

"I suppose not," she said.

"Alright then, Granger, we'll see what we can do." As much as Hermione was counting on her own wits to get her out of this mess, she had to admit it was nice to have another brain to help. Draco got up and Hermione followed him to the doors. He seemed to hesitate a little when he saw that Hermione had followed.

"Do you think me silly?" she asked. Draco seemed to seriously consider the question.

"I hardly had a high opinion of you from the beginning," he scoffed.

"Then I'm lucky that I would ruin my reputation for someone to whom I had none," she said. "Are you only helping me to help yourself?" Draco tilted his head to the side.

"Yes." Hermione nodded.

"Okay."

"But you're only talking to me to help _yourself_," he reminded. Hermione considered this.

"I'll see you later," she said and Draco disappeared through the double doors. Standing there for a minute, Hermione turned and exited through the doors opposite the ones Draco went through. Hermione contented herself in knowing that it could of gone worse.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"So how'd the second time go?" Harry asked. He was waiting for her in Head Boy and Head Girl's common room. Hermione considered.

"Better," she said. "Much better."

"And to think that you were telling me that you would never see him again last night," Harry said.

"I can misjudge," she argued. "I don't know what I'm going to do though. I mean, now that I see it, having Malfoy as...as an ally doesn't really solve the problem. Come on, you're the Boy-Who-Lived, you help me think of something." Harry's lips curved into a crooked grin.

"I'm sorry, Hermione, but the only thing that I can think of is for you to just sleep with Malfoy."

"You and Ginny, you're all the same, the whole lot of you," Hermione said.

"Hardly. You could ask Ron for his advice." Hermione shuddered.

"I don't think I would ever want to ask Ron that."

"Ask me what?" Harry and Hermione both looked up to find Ron at the entrance of the room. Harry blinked a couple of times.

"Ask you if you'd ever shagged Snape," Harry said seriously. Ron looked from Harry to Hermione carefully.

"Right," he said. "Speaking of shagging, what's this I hear about you and that git?"

"Oh."

"Oh is right, Hermione," Ron said, settling down into the sofa next to her.

"It's nothing," she said, waving it off.

"I hope it is. Every time I hear his name I feel like I'm breaking out into boils," Ron said. "I can't wait 'til graduation when he leaves and I don't have to see him again."

"I heard he got a racing broom," Harry offered.

"What model?"

"Wasn't quite sure. The new Polaris that came out a month ago? Something expensive I bet."

"Polaris," Ron groaned. "There's one brand I'll _never _be able to afford." Hermione was a little bit..._bewildered_ at how the conversation was going. Something about her situation and dealing with Malfoy made everything seem a little surreal, talking to her friends included.

"I think I'm going off to bed," Hermione said. "Tell Ginny that I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to talk to her today, okay?" Harry and Ron nodded. Hermione left them, a little thankfully, and settled into comfortable pajamas.

She crawled underneath the covers and replayed her conversation of Malfoy in her head, albeit a little sleepily, not knowing that he was doing the same thing in his own bed in the Slytherin dorms. Each thought that they had a good amount of superiority over the other. However, neither of them was prepared in the slightest sense of the word for what would come next.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooo


	4. Chapter Four

_Disclaimer_: I don't own.

**oo It Takes Two to Make Love oo**

**oo Chapter Four oo**

"This is crap," Draco drawled. "It's been two days and the only thing we've succeeded in is having you lose all semblance of a brain in front of Christian." Hermione scowled. She regretted in telling Draco what had happened but at the time had found it prudent to relay all information regarding her..._situation_ to Draco. After all, this concerned both of them, right?

"It wasn't as bad as you make it out to be," Hermione said. They were sitting in one of the private study rooms in the library, hidden from the public's curious eyes. Hermione made _special_ sure that no one saw either her or Draco enter the same room. If anyone did, she could just imagine the rumors _that_ would spark. _Did you hear? Hermione's actually been shagging Draco on a regular basis! Why _else_ would she spend so much time in the library anyway? _Hermione glared at Draco at the thought.

"What are you looking at me for? Glaring's not going to help anyone, my little pathological liar."

"If you call me names just _one_ more time, Malfoy!" Hermione said, threateningly. Their whole meeting had been full of nothing but Draco calling Hermione names and taunting her. And that was when he was being considerate.

They had agreed to meet solely because their sanities were being put to the test, Hermione's by her own guilt, Draco's by the unending flood of students that were harassing him about the rumor. Strangely enough, Hermione didn't have a problem with that. Perhaps it had something to do with being placed in all the advanced classes. Her classmates all believed that they were above petty things such as rumors and hormones and made it a clear fact that they couldn't care less about the gossip circling around Hermione. Or, to be more precise, they cared but did their best in not showing it. After all, these advanced placement students had a reputation to uphold, didn't they?

Therefore, Hermione ran into no trouble in the classes but she _did _run into the last person she wanted to see. And this was the latest reason why Draco was mocking her.

"_Hello Hermione." Hermione stopped on her way out to class and inwardly cringed. She plastered on her brightest smile and turned around._

"_Hello Christian. Long time no dig." Long time no dig! Since when did Hermione talk like an idiot? Christian merely gave her an amused glance. _

"_Right. So I heard the strangest thing the other day..." And that was Hermione panicked._

"_Oh, I'm sorry Christian but it looks like I have to go." _

"_Hermione, it's lunch time."_

_  
"Oh, so it is! I must go...polish er- Malfoy's broom." Hermione ran off, not realizing the implications of what she had said until she was all the way back in her dorm and spent two hours trying to think of a good enough punishment for herself. Christian, however, was left standing there, a little stunned and a little amused. He shook his head thinking Hermione really _would_ have enjoyed hearing about the new Arithmancy formula that had been proved. _

"Polish my broom!" Draco hooted. "How about it, Granger? Come over here and polish my broom?" Hermione looked at him with disgust on her side of the small room.

"Don't be vulgar," Hermione said, rather primly. "And stop calling me Granger. I have a name, you know. It's "Hermione." As hard as it may be for you to pronounce words that have more than one syllable, I would be much obliged if you would try it."

"Snotty today, are we?" Draco said. "Well okay then, _Her-my-oh-nee_." She scowled at how he drew out her name, enunciating each sound in an extremely aggravating manner.

"If you haven't noticed," he continued. "You haven't been calling me by my name either. Come now, it's only two syllables, it needn't be too difficult."

"I know your name. And I know you're also quite paranoid about it." Draco's eyes narrowed.

"What?"

"Harry told me a while ago that when you introduced yourself, he laughed and you thought that he was laughing at your name. Draco isn't too despicable a name; there must be a story behind this one." Draco's eyes stayed narrow.

"I find it prudent among my peers to respect my name," he said, in a very strange voice indeed. Hermione strained to try and understand what he might have indicated by his words but found them carefully bland. Was he ridiculed when he was a child?

"And that's it?" Hermione challenged. Draco heard the challenge and didn't back down, just as Hermione had hoped. He pressed his thin, colorless lips together and his eyes stayed narrow. He was sizing her up; Hermione could tell. It reminded her very much of what Crookshanks did whenever she scolded him, wondering when he could slink away and give on the air that he couldn't care less of what Hermione thought of him. That dratted cat. Malfoy, well Draco now, would make quite a better cat than a human, especially one that she had to interact with.

"I was a peevish, feeble boy," he said. Draco was still looking at Hermione warily, as though wondering if he should keep going.

"With no ability to defend oneself. Draco means dragon. People found it...amusing that a small boy like me would be named after such a mighty creature."

"And thus, an inferiority complex was born," Hermione said. "Although you would never know it now. I almost wish you stayed a peevish, feeble boy because your ego could stand to be deflated. A lot."

"So you think I'm quite fit now?" Draco asked, smirking. His wariness was gone and his overblown ego was back. Hermione pretended as though she didn't hear the question. She looked at her parchment, full of scribbles and doodles and plans that had been crossed and re-crossed out.

"Honestly, it's been two days and we haven't thought of _anything_," Hermione said. Draco shrugged.

"Ah my offer of validating this rumor still stands," he said. Hermione straightened in her chair with an offended air.

"I will oblige to no such thing!" she said. "I may have temporarily lost my sense but I will _not_ lose my-"

"Virginity?" Draco supplied.

"My _self respect_," Hermione said, scathingly.

"Ah, I see." Suddenly, Draco brightened.

"Hold on a minute, there," he said, looking triumphant. "Then are you implying that you are, indeed, not a virgin?" Hermione flushed and glowered at the blonde boy.

"This conversation has become too coarse for my liking," she said, trying to sound as dignified as she could. She gathered her things.

"Good day, Draco." She left, head held high. Draco watched her leave and chuckled to himself. He knew people may wonder why he was putting up with the Gryffindor bookworm after so vehemently hating her for all these years, if they knew. Honestly? It was because she was quite amusing, _especially_ when she was angry. He'd best not let her know that; knowing Hermione and her personality, she would probably make a point _not_ to lose her temper anymore just so Draco wouldn't have that satisfaction. She was contrary like that but that was precisely why she _was_ so interesting.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Hello there, Hermione," Ginny said. She had finally caught up the miserable looking girl sitting at a table by herself in the Great Hall. Harry, from the opposite side of the room, located them and started to make his way towards them as well. Who knew where Ron was these days, however. Most likely off with Padma as they have been inseparable since the beginning of the school year. Incidentally, that was also the time when Ron had _finally_ grown into himself and was much more aesthetically pleasing. It didn't hurt that he had played Quidditch all summer with Harry.

Ginny grabbed a mango-lemon smoothie, gave her thanks to the house-elves, and sat down across from Hermione.

"Why the long face?" she implored.

"Nothing. Everything." Ginny made a sympathetic, humming noise.

"That bad? Harry tells me that you met Draco Malfoy. You guys are trying to work together to figure out what to do."

"He did, did he?" Hermione said, giving Harry a pointed look as he sat down next to her.

"What?" he protested. "Ginny asked me what was going on. I didn't know it was a secret. _Was_ it a secret?"

"Well, no. But I'd really like it if no one else knew," she said. "There's enough about _that boy_ and me floating around as it is."

"Right," said Harry. He reached across the table and made to grab the smoothie and Ginny slapped his hand.

"So how _is_ it going?" he asked.

"I don't know," Hermione moaned. "He's okay and then he's just so intolerable."

"Christian or Draco?" Harry asked.

"Who do you think?" Ginny asked, making it clear in her words that she found Harry to be daft.

"Hey, it's a valid question," Harry said.

"Mal- Draco is."

"Ah, on first name basis now, are we?" Harry said with a teasing smile on his face. Hermione glared at her friend.

"It was part of a compromise," she explained. "So that he wouldn't call me Granger all the time, although I still have a problem with everything _else_ he calls me."

"But you call him names too," Ginny pointed out.

"Thank you, both of you actually, for making me feel just marvelous," Hermione said, dryly. Ginny beamed and Harry straightened importantly.

"You're welcome," they chorused. Hermione reached across and took Ginny's smoothie, to Harry's great annoyance.

"Both of you are impossible," she said.

"Have you come up with a plan yet, to patch things up?" Ginny asked. Hermione shook her head.

"You'd think with a simple thing such as teenage gossip there would be loopholes, but no, while my Magical Law class deals with situations such as murdering a unicorn and there's a loophole to something like _that_. There's something inherently wrong about that."

"Well, the loophole in that case is insanity," Harry said. "You don't want to plead yourself mad to the entire student body of Hogwarts now, do you?"

"Besides, the politics of teenage society is much more complicated," Ginny chimed in. "It's full of rules that you don't even know exists until you break them and you...well I suppose you broke a rule."

"Yes, lying and claiming you've shagged somebody who in reality you hate is probably breaking some rule," Hermione said. "There's no way out of it."

"Well there _is_ one way," Ginny said, hesitantly.

"No, I will _not_ proposition myself to Draco Malfoy!" Hermione said, emphasizing her words by thumping on the table. Ginny squeaked.

"Besides, what if Draco doesn't agree to it?" Hermione continued. "That plan is not even a plan. It's ill-thought out and it'll never work."

"My dear Hermione, as a member of the male gender, I will assure you that no boy would _ever_ turn down sex."

"Except if they're insane," Ginny reminded.

"Right, loophole," Harry agreed.

"Even you, Harry?" Hermione challenged. "Come sleep with me, right now Harry. What would you say to that?" Harry shifted a bit.

"I'm the Boy-Who-Lived," he argued. "I'm in a category of my own." Hermione laughed a little bit.

"Honestly, what am I going to do with you two?"

"Shower us with attention and love," Ginny said, promptly. Hermione rolled her eyes and helped herself to more of Ginny's smoothie.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo


	5. Chapter Five

_Disclaimer: _I don't own.

**oo It Takes Two To Make Love oo**

**oo Chapter Five oo**

"So tell me again why Hermione is going through all of this trouble?" Ginny said. Harry shrugged.

"I told her she was blowing everything out of proportion too. She's completely dug herself into this mess. Honestly, one little lie in her whole life can't be that dreadful, can it?"

"Yes," Hermione snapped. "And in case neither of you half-wits realized, I'm _still_ sitting right here so you'd best choose your words carefully." Harry just let her anger slide over him and gave her an easy smile.

"Well, anyway, what I was saying was that Hermione and her scruples are basically forcing her to stay in her situation." Ginny rolled her eyes.

"That's silly then," she announced. "Hermione, if you just admit for once in your life that you lied, I don't think anyone will think less of you."

"They do already! I can tell."

"Then what's just a few more thinking poorly of you by admitting you told a lie?" pointed Harry out, reasonably.

"It's just...it's just wrong! I've never, _ever_ lied before for such frivolous reasons!"

"This sounds familiar," Harry muttered.

"Come on, Hermione, don't you think that being branded a liar might be better than being branded a wanton woman?" Hermione frowned slightly. Ginny did have a point. But then again, Ginny had brought up the never ending debate about the double standard.

"If it was Draco that was the liar, everyone would be falling all over his feet saying what a hero he was for sleeping with _whomever_. But because it's me, I'll be labeled something awful anyway whether or not I lied so I might as well try to undo this lie so I might erase one thing off my list of bad personality traits. Does that make sense?"

"No," Harry said. "Come on, Hermione, you're being really unreasonable. You're not honestly going to go and shag Draco just so you wouldn't have lied when you told Christian that he was your best shag. And of course I'm using "best" in a very loose sense of the word since none of us know how good Draco really is in bed."

"He's right, Hermione," Ginny said. "You can't honestly throw away your virtues just to clear your conscience."

"But..." Hermione was at a loss for words, which didn't happen very often. This lasted for approximately three and seven- tenths of a second.

"You guys were the ones that were encouraging me to go shag him!" she blasted at them. They gazed back at her, unperturbed.

"Well, yes," Ginny said. "But we were only suggesting it because that's what we would do. We never actually _thought_ that you were going to go do it. We're your _friends_ Hermione, we know you." Hermione scowled.

"What a lot you are," she said. "Sleeping with some Slytherin to undo a lie." She conveniently forgot at that moment that that was precisely what she had been considering to do.

"A very good looking Slytherin," Ginny corrected.

"Just so there's no confusion," Harry said, hesitantly. "I probably wouldn't shag Draco but Daphne, on the other hand." He grinned a little lop-sidedly.

"No objections there," he said. Hermione shook her head.

"Don't act so holier than thou, Hermione," Ginny said. "I know for a fact that you don't mind premarital sex."

"Really?" Harry asked, looking surprised. "When did she say that?"

"Last year," Ginny answered.

"Well, that's only because I don't plan on marrying," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "The thought of living the rest of my life with one other person makes my blood run cold. So why not enjoy myself when I don't have to promise myself to a monogamous relationship later on in life? Besides, I'm not a wildly religious person anyway."

"She has no virtues," Harry said, in an awed voice.

"Oh shush you." Hermione waved her wand a bit as sparks jumped from the tip of the wand threateningly.

"Then what I don't see is a problem in actually going to Draco and undoing the lie in...er- a physical sense of the word," Ginny said, reasonably. If one wasn't listening to her words carefully, they would think that what Ginny said _was_ indeed reasonable. Hermione differed in opinion.

"Absolutely not."

"_Hermione_," Ginny said, exasperated. "Honestly, first you won't refuse to let go of this silly mistake because of your own conscience. Then you say you refuse to undo the lie in the only way possible because you just will _not_ shag Draco Malfoy. And _then_ you say that you think women should be free to do as they please and shag who they please like men do because to hell with the double standard!"

"When did she say that?" Harry asked.

"If you were listening, Harry," Ginny said, distractedly. With a wave of her diminutive hand, she shut Harry up.

"What do you have to say to that?" Ginny challenged, triumphantly. Hermione huffed, frustrated, as she frantically tried to think of an excuse that _did_ in fact justify her situation.

"I never said that woman should be free to do as they please and shag whoever they want to. I mean, they should be able to but not me. I mean, I might not be saving myself for marriage but I _am_ saving myself for something special, _thankyouverymuch_."

"And how is saving your conscience from unending guilt not special?" Ginny said.

"I don't know! It's just different!"

"I think she has a point," Harry said. "I mean, even though you're obviously smitten with his good looks, which I might add aren't even that great, this is still the same Malfoy that Hermione's hated for the past six years. You can't forget _that_ very easily."

"Thank you," Hermione said. "I can't forget the past six years of unending torment. He's not doing much to redeem himself now, either." 

"He isn't maliciously teasing you though," Harry pointed out. "At least not from what I've heard."

"And that's supposed to matter how?" Hermione asked. Harry shrugged.

"I don't know. I would have never expected Malfoy to even begin to agree to even meet with you."

"That's because you haven't taken a good look at the boy," Ginny told him. "I swear he's even breaking down the titanic grudge match between Slytherin and Gryffindor, at least temporarily. The last man to do that was Sirius."

"Sirius?" Harry said, incredulously. "Sirius Black? My godfather?_ Snuffles!_?" 

"Yes Sirius your godfather. Have you taken a look at the old Hogwarts photo albums? He's amazing!" Ginny said.

"I'll have to ask him about this next time I visit," Harry mused.

"Are you both done salivating over Sirius?" Hermione asked, dryly.

"I wasn't salivating!" Harry said, indignantly. "Besides, would you rather have us torment you on your masochistic situation?"

"No," she answered. "But I would like to go by the lake."

"But Head Girl!" Harry said, in a much practiced scandalized voice. "It's nearly nine! That's surely against the rules!"

"Finally," Ginny said. "Time for something fun."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

The air was surprisingly warm considering it was fall. Hermione suspected the warmth had something to do with the magical outdoor heaters that Dumbledore had installed around the lake so that students may enjoy skating on the frozen lake without several hundred layers of clothing. How the air stayed warm but the water cool escaped Hermione; then again, that's why it was magic.

Hermione kicked off her shoes and held up her robes as she waded in. The water was still shockingly cold and she had to concentrate on not falling over.

"No, Harry!" Ginny cried, a little too late. Harry had jumped off a rock completely into the lake and surfaced, the bones in his face looking sharper than normal with his hair severely slicked back away from his face.

"If you guys aren't going to swim, this is boring," Harry said, further away from shore. Hermione pointedly ignored him as she carefully walked parallel to the shore, enjoying the feeling of rocks and sand underneath her feet and the moon on her shoulders. Hadn't one of the professors mentioned something about water acting as a calming agent for magic? Yes; it was in charms class, perhaps, where someone said if a spell had gone awry, one should first try to submerge the wand underwater and see if that would solve the case, which it should for minor things.

Hermione caught up with Ginny and walked along side the shorter girl.

"Would you really sleep with Draco if you were in my position?" Hermione asked.

"Possibly. It's always different when it's happening to you," Ginny admitted. "What I think you should do is stop worrying about it and obsessing every moment of your waking life to it. You should just go where it takes you. It'll solve itself out, eventually. It'll probably be faster if you stop tying knots into it." Hermione stayed silent as she kicked slightly at the silver water.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Draco swore under his breath and almost turned around when he saw that the lake wasn't quite as empty as he had hoped it would be. Instead, there were possibly the three people he could stand without seeing for perhaps another century or two. Or three since he was in a particularly black mood at the moment.

No wait, he took that back. There were all those half-witted Slytherins back in the common room. They were actually the reason why he was out here at the lake at a ridiculous hour. He tilted his head a bit and watched Harry splash around in the lake. Didn't that boy ever get cold? Ginny and Hermione were walking at a more sedate pace along the beach.

As much as Draco longed for and preferred solitude, he wondered if maybe it mightn't be so bad to be in the company of some friends that you honestly didn't mind. Those Slytherins, on the other hand, were hardly companion material. Bodyguards in the way of the bionically enhanced, perhaps, and there were good to party with but as a conversation holder, they weren't much.

Draco wondered if he should let himself be known. The three Gryffindors hadn't given indication that they noticed him. Draco watched as Harry snuck up on Ginny and pulled her into the water, leaving Hermione to watch, amused. He seized that opportunity to walk up next to the girl.

"Ah it's so sweet to watch those two flirt around like a couple of insects." Hermione didn't even turn around.

"And by the charming, dulcet tones I would gather that it's you, Draco?" she said, sounding bored. Draco grinned.

"None other."

"What are you doing out at this hour? I could have points taken from Slytherin; it's against the rules."

"You wouldn't dare!" Draco said, with mock-fright. "What are _you_ doing out here, besides setting a bad example for possible future Head students to come?"

"I'm _thinking_," Hermione said. "That area in your head might be empty for you but it's quite useful for me."

"So useful, in fact that you've already thought of a way out of this mess you've dug into," Draco said, flashing a smile. Hermione finally gave him a side-long glance.

"You're right, I suppose," she admitted. Hermione said the words like they pained her, which they probably did, seeing as how she hated to admit she was wrong to anyone and _especially_ Draco Malfoy.

"Harry and Ginny keep telling me to let it go. Believe me, I've tried. You'd think it'd be easy to forget one flippant, offhanded lie told under pressure but believe me, I can't forget it. I have to leave Hogwarts with a clear conscience."

"I don't understand you," Draco said.

"I didn't think you would," she said. "It's hard to explain it myself but I got myself into this mess and I can't get myself back out." Hermione realized that she was losing feeling in her feet. She stepped out of the water and shook off the excess lake water. The air was getting cooler now that she had been wading into the pond and Hermione grabbed her robes more tightly around her.

"I'll see you at the library again tomorrow," Hermione said, shook her robes efficiently once, and left. Draco watched her leave, musing on why on earth she really _couldn't_ let go of this stupid lie and leave them all in peace. As long as she wouldn't admit that she had lied, he was stuck in a limbo as well. They had to agree on a story in order to be taken seriously and left alone. It was a mess indeed.

Before Ginny and Harry could notice him, Draco also left the lake, dripping water, feeling severely confused.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Hermione and Draco were sitting in the same private study room as before and Hermione was bent over a piece of parchment, scribbling some hopeless plans on them.

"Perhaps if I can convince McGonagall to give me the Time Turner™ back for just one more day then I could turn back time and give myself a shove right when I make my idiot mistake."

"Will never work," Draco drawled. "Firstly, _you_ might know about the Time Turner™ but that might not occur to you immediately and you might hex yourself. Secondly, _Christian_ probably doesn't know about the Time Turner™ so _he _could hex you. Thirdly, you'd have to turn back a lot of hours. What exactly would you be doing with yourself for days' worth of time?" Hermione scowled to find that Draco was right.

She glanced over at him and found him raising his wand at a random student that they could see through the two-way glass of the door. They could see out but the students outside could not see in.

"Don't you even dare," Hermione warned.

"But you haven't thought of anything, well anything plausible, yet and I'm bored," Draco said, his voice dangerously close to whining.

"In case you've forgotten, I'm _Head Girl_. You can't just hex an innocent student right in front of me and expect me not to collect damages!"

"They don't have to be innocent," Draco said. As Colin Creevy walked by, Draco perked up.

"See? Like him. That nosy, annoying kid would deserve whatever gets him." Draco experimentally raised his wand.

"Put it down," Hermione threatened, without looking up from the parchment. "Leave Colin alone, he never did anything to bother you."

"Except perhaps exist," Draco grumbled. He gave his wand an experimental twirl around his long fingers. Hermione crumbled up another piece of parchment and threw it in the corner where it joined other similar things. The pile was growing larger by the minute.

"What was your fool plan this time?" Draco asked. Hermione sighed and rubbed her temples.

"Perform the Memory spell on Christian," she said, wearily.

"And on the rest of the student body of Hogwarts?" Draco said scornfully.

"Well, maybe if _you_ tried to think of something as well, Draco, we might have figured out a solution by now!" Draco gave no notice to Hermione's distress and instead watched another student walk by and raised his wand. Hermione reached over and snatched it from his hand.

"And _no _hexing," she said, emphatically. Draco slumped down in his chair and glowered at the wall. Hermione took a mental snapshot to share with Ginny, to show her how exactly _un_appealing he truly was. She set Draco's wand on the table next to her. She focused her attention back on her problem.

Perhaps if maybe she used the Time Turner™ to go back in time and then skip back ahead in time. No, then there would still be two copies of her, right? No, wait. Yes, as long as she kept skipping back and forth in time, there would never be a chance for her future and past self to merge. Hermione wasn't completely positive, however. Thinking of the logistics of the Time Turner™ always made her head spin.

As she was distracted, Draco lunged for his wand and pointed it at a passerby and as he was saying the curse, Hermione reached over and jostled Draco's hand. There was a flash of blue and green light and for a minute, Hermione was blinded.

When her vision returned, it was in spots and she blinked several times to clear it. She looked over to find Draco slumped in his chair.

"Could you not stay out of trouble for five minutes?" she said, exasperated, to the still body of Draco. Hermione experimentally kicked him several times when she saw that he was still breathing and then kicked him a couple more times out of spite. She looked out the door and found the coast was clear and dragged Draco out of the library and to in infirmary.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

When Draco woke up, his stomach was in knots and he felt sick.

"I think I'm going to be sick." And as just announced, he promptly leaned forward and threw up. After he shook his head and drank water from a cup that was pressed into his hand, Draco had gathered enough consciousness to realize that a basin had been held, ready, in front of him when he threw up.

And looking at what was in the basin made Draco sick to his stomach again. The basin was full of a slimy assortment of eels and sea slugs. There was a hand on the basin, supporting it, and Draco followed the hand that turned into an arm that eventually turned into Hermione's frustrated face.

"What?" he said, feebly.

"You domnoddy, you fool!" she said. "How could you be so moronic! Did you actually think that your curse was going to penetrate the glass of the door?" To be truthful, Draco hadn't given that a second thought. He didn't have time for a second thought as he promptly leaned forward again and let more eels and slugs and slime fall out of his mouth.

"I say this is sweet punishment, Draco, especially since if I recall correctly, the same thing happened to Ron back in second-year, thanks to you."

"It was thanks to his defective wand," Draco managed to say, before leaning forward again.

"Just keeping throwing it up," Madame Pomfrey said, patting Draco's back soothingly. She instructed Hermione to keep hitting Draco's back, _gently_ mind you, to help the sea creatures come out. The minute Madame Pomfrey had her back turned Hermione hit Draco with full force on the back.

"Ow! What was that for?" Or that would have been what Draco would have said had he not doubled over and threw up into the basin in the middle of his sentence.

"For being an immature, rude little wizard and for trying to hex a random student," Hermione said, severely. "I had seventy-five points taken from Slytherin and Professor Snape is absolutely livid."

"Crap." Draco threw up again.

"Mad?" he asked. Draco was starting to get the hang of talking and throwing up. In other words, he could only manage about a word before the eels would start to worm their way out of his mouth.

"Are you mad or is Professor Snape mad?" Hermione asked. She answered her own question. "Yes you are _quite_ mad for considering hexing to solve your boredom and I do think you got what you deserved. Yes, Professor Snape is absolutely furious; didn't you just hear me tell you he was? He wanted to put you into detention until the end of the school term but I told him not to, that you had to study."

"You said-"Draco gagged into the basin. "That?"

"Yes, I said I did, didn't I?" Hermione asked, with narrowed eyes. She pounded Draco's back again.

"Why?" he managed, before doubling over again.

"What?"

"Why do that for me?"

"I didn't _do_ anything for you," Hermione said, trying to sound venomous. "I just...You just...You have to study!" Even in his sick state, Draco still managed to flash Hermione his trademark egotistical grin before throwing up again.

"Besides, how can you help me think of a way out of my dilemma if you're in the dungeons grading papers for Snape?" When Draco still looked self-satisfied and unconvinced by her words, Hermione settled for pounding Draco's back _extra_ hard.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo


End file.
